Masquerade
by rainbowycupcake
Summary: Thirty years have passed since Kaitou KID disappeared without a trace, taking Kuroba Kaito with him. Now, someone has challenged the missing phantom thief, in an attempt to uncover the truth. Confronted with his past, Kaito walks the thin line between madness and salvation. See, madness, as you know, is like gravity - all it takes is a little push. Written for Poirot Cafe's contest


And here's another one written for one of Poirot Cafe's themed writing competitions. This time, the theme was 'alone' - and well, for some reason 'immortal Kaito' was the first thing that popped in my head - so, here you go, immortal Kaito! If you squint a little, you might be able to tell that I took a liking to the optional prompt 'masks' ^-~

**Warnings**: I may have crossed into suicidal territory near the end, it's nothing graphic or anything, but if you're bothered by that - you have been warned! That being said, you can safely read through most of the story, and then skim over the end or just leave, if you want to.

And without further ado - Masquerade!

* * *

**Masquerade**

_See, madness, as you know, is like gravity: all it takes is a little push - Joker to Batman in The Dark Knight  
_

He frowned when he checked the Japanese news on his laptop, sitting in a musty motel room, a few miles outside of Wichita, Kansas.

"Anonymous Challenge Issued to Kaitou KID!" the headline read, followed by a ridiculously long article, covering everything, from the crimes his father had committed, to speculations about his disappearance thirty years ago. It then went on to describe the masquerade ball, to be held at the Haido City Hotel, where the infamous Incomparable necklace would be displayed, courtesy of a rich widow.

According to the news article, the necklace had been a gift, given to her by her husband on their fifth anniversary, but the article didn't mention the names of either the widow or the deceased husband. Well, it would be easy enough to find out.  
Said necklace was also his target, if he chose to accept the challenge.

He hummed quietly in thought.  
He no longer had a reason to steal anything, but he would be lying if he said, that he wasn't curious about the person who challenged KID, despite the fact that no one had seen or heard from him in three decades. And the thought of throwing a good old KID heist was alluring in its own way.

The more he thought about it, the more tempting it became. Before he knew it, he found himself making and discarding plans, going over what he remembered about the location. A few clicks provided him with a nice and clear picture of the necklace and plenty of information.

While he was engrossed in his research and preparations, he didn't even notice the tiny spark inside of him flickering, igniting and bursting into a small flame. Almost extinguished by years and years of living in the shadows and dealing with the worst of society, it now burst to life with renewed energy.

Only when he read an article about the necklace, that mentioned the current owner, was he thrown out of his state of serene busyness. He stared at the page for a full minute, feeling oddly numb.  
It couldn't be a coincidence. Then he felt a little tug at his heart and quickly closed the tab in his browser, but the feeling wouldn't go away.  
"No...not now.." he muttered and shook his head, using all his willpower to reinforce his mental barriers, that were _supposed _to keep stuff like that away from him.

It took him a while to distance himself from the unwanted emotions, and when he did, he let out a relieved sigh. Safe, he was safe now.

Smiling softly to himself, he took one of the sheets of paper, that were strewn around the dusty motel room, and wrote his answer. The corners of his mouth involuntarily twitched up when his hand went through the familiar motions that were needed to draw his signature doodle.

On the last pencil strokes, his movements slowed, until they came to a halt, his hand lingering in the air above the paper. His smile faltered and disappeared. He couldn't … KID was dead, and not even phantom thieves could come back from that.

* * *

_Two weeks later_

Sighing, he gathered his luggage and made his way out of the airport, easily avoiding any security. There were things in his bags that would raise suspicion. Probably. He wasn't too keen on testing it.

Returning to his old home was strange. His mother had settled down in Paris long ago, but she still owned their house in Ekoda. While he dug through his pockets in search for his key, he briefly wondered if he had lost it some time during the last thirty years – but no, there it was, in a hidden pocket inside his shirt.

The house was empty, as expected.

Every step he took inside raised little clouds of dust. He closed the door behind him and set his bags down, looking around, a melancholic look on his face. There were still pictures hung up on the walls and a dead flower sat in the corner, looking as cheery and alive as he felt inside.

Kaito drudged up the stairs and made a beeline for his old room. It was exactly as he had left it thirty years ago. Crumpled bed sheets and an empty soda can included. Not that any of that was of much interest to him, even though memories he'd rather forget were nagging at the back of his mind.  
Shoving them into a little box and shoving said box into the furthest, darkest corner of his mind, he went over to the life sized portrait of his father. He tried his best to ignore the emotional turmoil, that this particular picture brought forth, and focused on disarming the various traps he had set up.

He'd moved the most important things to another location, but there hadn't been enough time to clear the whole room, so he set up traps in case Snake and his buddies came to snoop around.  
Considering that everything was still in order and the traps still armed, it seemed that his plan to lure them away from his home and friends had worked. But you could never be too sure with _them_, he had learned that over the years.

It took him a few minutes to work his way through the security net surrounding the picture and in the short hallway behind the secret door. When he was done, he entered the hidden room and glanced around, looking for anything suspicious. There was nothing to be seen expect the various gadgets and materials, that he himself had left behind.

He sat down at the small table and wearily reached out to pull a few sheets of paper closer. A quick glance revealed that they were blueprints of the Beika museum. No use for them. His eyes wandered around the room, glazing over when his mind drifted from the box with spare monocles to the day that changed his life forever.

Everything went perfect. Or so he thought, because accidentally becoming immortal had _not_ been part of his plan. Yet it happened. Sometimes it still seemed so surreal, but a look in the mirror was all he needed to remind him that it was reality. It was painfully ironic.  
The people who strove for eternal youth never got to fulfill their dream and died, but _he_, the one who detested the mere thought of living forever … he was the one who had to live with it, against his will. Ironic, indeed.

He shook himself out of his daze. Now was not the time to dwell on old memories, he had things to do and a ball to get ready for. The past could be dealt with later, after all, he had all the time in the world.  
That thought elicited a harsh laugh, that still rang in his ears, long after he had left to seek out his second hideout.

* * *

The elderly woman did a slow three-sixty, twisting her head to look in the mirror. She let out a small sigh at the sight of her extravagant ball gown and asked her friend: "Are you sure it's not too … flamboyant? I mean, it's better than the red one, but still..I'm not twenty anymore, Keiko, don't you think I should go for something a little more modest?"

She saw in the mirror how the other woman shook her head. "You look stunning, dear. And you're going to be the center of the attention, no matter what. This is your night, you deserve to look great."

Nakamori Aoko turned around, absently playing around with the expensive necklace around her neck. When she realized, what she was doing, she immediately stopped, afraid that she might damage the delicate piece of jewelry. In all the years that it had been in her possession, she wore it only once – the day her husband gave it to her. She clearly remembered how shocked she was back then.

This was not a simple necklace, it was the most valuable necklace in the _world _and he gave it to _her_, just like that. Of course, coming from a wealthy family, he never had to worry about money, but it was hard for her to accept such an expensive gift. Refusing it would have been outright disrespectful, but she never felt comfortable wearing it.

A light tap on her shoulder broke her out of her thoughts.  
"Are you ready? We need to go, unless you want to be late to your own party." Keiko asked and held up Aoko's mask. She nodded and took the mask, turning back to the mirror. Holding up the mask to her face, she patiently waited for her friend to tie the satin band behind her head.  
Blue eyes twinkled with anticipation behind the filigree, golden disguise, that barely covered her eyes and temples.

They left the room without noticing the little dove perched on the windowsill.

* * *

He engaged in his own form of dance, as he elegantly stepped around and between dancing pairs. It was a lonely dance for a lonely man. He was different from all of them and he knew it. They would never know, never understand. They lived their life in peace, dancing, going to parties and having fun – going home and sleeping off the mild, champagne-induced hangover. Going to work, meeting with friends and family, starting their own family. Growing old. And then they died and it was all for nothing. For them, life was a brittle succession of fleeting moments, each one more precious than the one before, gone before you could even think about them. And it all could end any moment, just like that. But not for him. He would still be there, when they were all dead, he'd be there when their children and grandchildren died. And long after that, he'd _still_ be there, wondering if he was even human anymore.

Sidestepping a lovely woman with a feather mask, that whirled around in her partner's arms, he finally laid eyes on _her_.

He couldn't help but stare, as time seemed to freeze around him, his brain making snap-shots of his surroundings. The woman with the silver mask, adorned by red feathers, her mouth open in a warm laugh. The hem of her red dress gliding over the floor. Her dancing partner looking at her, his eyes shining with admiration.  
A waiter across the room stumbling, his face twisted into a horrified grimace, as the tray laden with champagne glasses toppled over. Three women standing together, chatting and drinking champagne.

But it all faded to the back of his mind as his attention centered on _her_.

Despite her age, she was the most beautiful, the most stunning woman in the room. The way her brown hair fell over her shoulders, how the skirt of her dark blue gown swung around and the faint laughter lines around her mouth – everything about her was just perfect.  
Then she turned around and time resumed it's natural pace. The woman in red spun around, the chattering women broke into quiet giggles and the waiter managed to catch himself just in time.

She'd felt like someone was watching her and upon turning around, her eyes roamed over the dancing guests, until they landed on a man in a white suit that stood in the middle of it all, seemingly unfazed by everything going on around him. He was looking right at her, his face hidden behind an ornate, golden mask that reached all the way from his forehead down to his chin, leaving only a small area around his mouth in the open. Indigo eyes stared at her and she sucked in a surprised breath.  
He came...

She absently mumbled an excuse to the charming man, she'd been dancing with, and took a step towards _him_.

Her steps faltered when the lights went out all of a sudden. The music stopped just a second later, and for a moment, deafening silence reigned, before hushed whispers broke out. Broken bits and pieces of conversations reached her ears, but there was one voice that stood out. It was quiet, but he was standing so close, his warm breath like a soft breeze on her neck, that she understood him perfectly.

"Do you think..."  
"...might..."  
"...something happened?"  
"...Kaitou KID?"  
"May I have this dance?"

Long fingers wrapped around her wrist and she followed blindly as he weaved his way through the crowd, adjusting his unique dance to fit for two.  
The lights flickered back on, just as the two vanished through a door.

"Where are we going?" she asked, stumbling over her long dress as she tried to keep up with him. Why he was in such a rush, almost running through the hallway, was beyond her.  
He didn't answer, just threw a look at her over his shoulder, his lips curving into a small smile.

He led her straight to the entrance hall of the hotel, where they entered one of the elevators and he pushed the button for the highest floor, making it clear to Aoko what their destination was.

The ride up passed in silence, with him leaning against the wall on one side and her standing awkwardly on the other side. Multiple times, Aoko opened her mouth – just to hesitate and close it again, the words getting lost somewhere along the way.  
A little 'pling' signaled that they had reached the top floor and he grabbed her wrist again, dragging her out, through the hallway and up the stairs.

He let go of her and burst through the door, coming to a stop in the center of the roof. There he turned around and offered her a charming smile, raising his hands in a wide, all-encompassing gesture.  
"Beautiful, isn't it?"  
She looked up.  
It was a warm September night, the night sky unusually clear, revealing billions upon billions of stars, and amid them, a clear full moon.  
"You can see the Beika Museum from here."

She wasn't sure why, but that meaningless sentence irritated her to no end, and before she could think about it, the words were streaming out of her mouth, letting out the pent-up anger and frustration.

"_Baka_! Why did you leave? What were you thinking? Didn't you spare a minute to think about all the people who cared – still care – for you? Do you know how much we worried, how much it hurt!? I never thought you could be so … heartless! I prayed _every day, _that you'd come back, every day, Kaito, for years! Even after they all told me to let it go, even after they declared you _dead! _I just knew that you were out there, somewhere .. Every time the phone rang, every time I heard the name 'Kaito', every time the door bell rang, I hoped … but you just disappeared ..How could you?" she almost choked on her last question and angrily wiped the tears from her cheeks, her hand bumping against her mask.

The white-clad man met her questioning eyes with a hard stare. "I left, _because_ I was thinking about you. It was the only way to protect you, your father, our friends … everyone."

"Protect us from what? Kaito. … Do you think I was that stupid? Fine, yes, I was a bit naive and clueless when we were young, but I still noticed that something was going on. I thought you would come to me, when you were ready, like you always did. So I didn't press. But you never did. Tell me now!" She scrutinized his face and added "And take that stupid mask off."

Slowly, he brought a hand to his face and removed the golden mask. But the face underneath wasn't his.

She let out a heavy breath. "_All_ of them."

"I...I can't take this one off."  
Aoko frowned. "Why not? Did something happen to your face?" she asked, thinking that, maybe he'd been in an accident or one of his gadgets blew up in his face, scarring it.  
He let out a bitter laugh. "No. There's nothing wrong with it." The woman's frown intensified, etching deep lines into her forehead. She felt like there was more to those words, something that went over her head.  
"Take if off then." she insisted and took a step towards her old friend, determined to remove the mask herself, if he wouldn't do it.  
"No." he persisted and took a step back. Away from her.

"Kaito … please, talk to me. What happened to you?"  
He turned away from her and looked up to the full moon, that softly illuminated the rooftop.  
"It's … a long story." he said slowly.

Aoko let out an undignified snort. "Please. I challenged you, so you would show your stupid face and finally tell me the truth. I waited thirty years for this, I don't care if it takes all night."  
Kaito sighed. "When I was sixteen, I found out that my father had been Kaitou KID." He turned around to gauge her reaction. "You already knew that, didn't you?"

She nodded. "Saguru told me everything he knew and suspected. And you'd have to be stupid not to see it. The first time Kaitou KID disappeared was around the time your father died. The second time around, it was you that left. Once, you can write off as a freak coincidence, but twice? And that's not even considering all the other hints."

Kaito nodded with a thoughtful expression and hesitated for a second, before asking "How did Hakuba... how did he die?" He regretted the question, when he saw the grief flickering across Aoko's face. Why did he ask that? There was no need to rip open old wounds.  
"He was shot on a case." she answered curtly.  
"I'm sorry." _Did you love him?  
_Aoko was still wearing her wedding ring, a fact that didn't go unnoticed by Kaito, and he restrained himself from voicing his second question, when the answer was so obvious.

"Don't try to change the subject. I'm not leaving until I have some answers." Her voice was quiet, barely louder than a whisper, but her eyes fixated him with a hard, unrelenting stare.

"Fine," he sighed, "that night, I also found out that he had been murdered." He saw, that Aoko was about to say something, and cut her off. "Let me finish first. Then you can ask questions." She nodded in agreement and stayed silent, willing to listen to his story.

"I became Kaitou KID to lure out the people, who murdered my father. And it worked, they showed themselves and I found out that they were searching for a very specific gem. They were also part of a larger organization, that's spread out all over the world. You have no idea...I promised myself and my father, that I would find and destroy this jewel, before _they_ could get their hands on it."

He paused, twirling his mask around with one hand, while he was considering his next words.  
Aoko, staying true to their deal, kept quiet and waited for him to continue.

"I succeeded. I found the jewel and I destroyed it. But the organization found out about my true identity. Honestly, I'm surprised it took them that long, considering that they knew who the first KID was … anyway, that's why I left. They would have killed everyone I cared about … and then me. It was the only thing I could do to protect you, and it only worked because you were clueless."

Silence settled over them, only occasionally interrupted by the sounds one would expect to hear in a city at night. Cars rushing by on the street below. Sirens. Drunk yells and laughter. A low flying plane.

Aoko was deep in thought. A lot of things made more sense now.  
"Go ahead. I know you have questions."  
"Why didn't you go to the police?"

He shook his head. "You don't understand. Those people … they're everywhere. This is bigger than the police. I didn't know who to trust."  
"That's not true! You could have talked to my father or … or Saguru. His father was the Superintendent. Or did you think they were part of this organization too?" she burst out, outraged at the idea that Kaito would mistrust her own father.

Kaito let out a heavy sigh."I don't know, Aoko. I don't know what I was thinking, I had no idea what I was doing back then. I was only sixteen and my whole world had been turned upside down. And then, before I knew it, the lies – _my_ lies – had been piled up so high that I saw no way around them anymore."

Aoko glared at him, her eyes glinting with unresolved pain and anger. "You should have talked to us. To anyone! Bottling all of that up for so long...Kaito..." her voice softened, "So, is that where you have been all this time? Hiding from this organization?"  
He chuckled, but it sounded sarcastic and bitter. "No. I've been chasing them."  
"But … that's dangerous! What were you thinking? You could have gone into hiding and-"  
"And what?!" he interrupted fiercely, "Run from them for the rest of my life, always fearing that they find me when I least expect it, stab me in the back when I'm not looking? No.." he shook his head, "That wasn't an option. I had to fight back."

"Fight back? What if you get killed?! Have you thought abo-" Aoko stopped mid sentence, when her childhood friend started to laugh. Loud and, at least in Aoko's opinion, almost madly.  
"Stop laughing! This is serious! It's a miracle you're still alive … KAITO!" She screamed his name, but he just laughed harder. So she stormed up to him and slapped him as hard as she could.  
That snapped him out of it.

In the split-second after the palm of her hand had hit his cheek, Kaito was staring at her, eyes wide. His fingers were wrapped around her wrist, but he'd been too slow – too occupied by the irony of her words and how it was completely lost on her.  
She hit him, hard, and his mask ripped. Just a little bit, but enough for Aoko to be encouraged to tear away the rest. The flesh-colored piece of latex fell to the ground uselessly.  
Kaito let go of her wrist and turned away, hiding his face in the shadows. But she'd seen. It was pointless.

She stumbled back, a hand covering her mouth. "No. No. That's not...it's not...it's not possible! Who are you? His son?"

He stiffed at the disbelief in her voice. He could tell another lie, right there and then. It would be so much easier... The pile was so huge anyway, what was one more?  
"Tell me! Who are you?" she called out, her voice shaking.  
But he was so tired. Tired of the lies, tired of hiding and pretending to be someone else. Tired of fooling everyone around him. He'd done it for over thirty years.

"Aoko … it's me." Kaito turned around, just in time to see her shake her head violently.  
"No, it can't be. It's another mask, right? It has to be..." she mumbled the last part to herself, but it was still loud enough for him to hear.  
He replied with a shake of his head, then pinched his own cheek and tugged at the skin.

Slowly, Aoko walked up to him and mimicked his actions.  
Disbelief morphed into shock, as she stared at his youthful face. He didn't look a day older than when she had last seen him … thirty years ago.  
"Kaito?"  
He nodded.

"But … how? It can't … it shouldn't be possible.." she trailed off, her hand lingering in the air, just a few centimeters from his face.  
Kaito nodded again, his face twisted into a bitter grimace. "You're right. It shouldn't be possible, it's not right."

Ever so slowly, she brought her hand back to his face, gently caressing the smooth skin.  
"How? I don't understand..."  
He wavered for a second, distracted by her soft, if a little calloused, fingers trailing over his cheek.  
"The jewel … it's .. it was..."  
"Yes?" she gently urged him on.  
"Pandora. There was a legend, a myth. It said, that the tears of Pandora would grant immortality to the one who drank them."

"That's why they were looking for it?" she guessed and he nodded.

"I didn't believe it. And now look at me." He laughed that bitter laugh again, the one that sent a shiver down Aoko's spine. And for the first time, she actually wondered if all those years alone with this madness had broken him beyond repair.

His laughter grew louder and madder until it gave way to heart-wrenching sobs and he stumbled forward, seeking shelter in her embrace.  
Tears were glistering in Aoko's eyes when she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him even closer, and listened as he was consumed by the emotions that he had buried for all those years.

When his legs gave out under him, she slid to the floor with him, the skirt of her dress fanning out around them, tightening her grip.  
"Aoko..." he choked out. She brought one of her hands up and began to stroke his head in a soothing manner, like a mother comforting her child.  
"Ssh. It's okay, I'm here."  
"N-no..it's n-not..not okay!" he burst out and pulled away. Seeing him like that, the raw pain on his face, broke her heart.

"It's not okay! I hate this, I hate what it has done to me! I can't … I can't deal with it, but I have to, and there's no way..." he run his hands through his hair frantically, looking at her, so _desperate_.  
"It's not fair! And no matter what I do, it's always wrong! I can't live, I _shouldn't_ live, but I can't die either … I tried, I tried so many times..."  
"Kaito..." Aoko didn't know what to say, the implications of his last sentence ringing giant warning bells in her head.

She stayed on the floor and numbly watched as he jumped up and began pacing back and forth.  
"They took everything from me. My father, my innocence, my friends, you, my _life_. I hate them!"  
He paused and stared at her with wide eyes, madness and pure rage rampaging behind the blue irises. "_That's _why I needed to go after them. That's why I couldn't – can't let it rest. They need to suffer like I did! But they won't … they can never know what it's like to hurt like this, to suffer like this, to go through hell _forever_."

He began his pacing again, muttering under his breath, but his words were lost to Aoko, who was still sitting on the floor, trying to process everything. It was a lot to take in at once, and as she sat there, it felt like she was nineteen again, when she had realized that Kaito was gone and wouldn't come back – she'd felt so lost and alone. It was the same now.

"No." she whispered. She didn't intend for him to hear it, but he did and stopped his pacing.  
"No?" he echoed.

"No. They may have taken your father, but everything else was _your_ fault. _You_ chose to become the second KID, _you_ chose to lure them out, _you_ chose to make yourself a target, _you_ chose to run away!"

He stared at her shell-shocked. "You can't be serious! How can you defend those monsters?"

She pushed herself from the ground and straightened her dress.  
"I'm not defending them. What they did .. it's terrible, but no one forced you to do any of this. It was your choice and now you're blaming the consequences on someone else, because you can't deal with the fact that you're the one responsible!"

And just like that the poker face snapped back into place. Oh, how she hated it.  
"I'm sorry for wasting your time. Clearly, coming here was a mistake. It won't happen again."  
"Kaito! Don't..."

Paying no heed to her words, he turned around and walked to the edge of the roof, stepping onto the small stone lip that surrounded the rooftop.  
"Kaito! Don't leave me like that … not again!" She started to run towards him, but the damned dress … she stumbled over it and when she looked back up, he was gone.

* * *

As he circled over Tokyo, he wondered. Why did he even come back? All it accomplished, was ripping open old wounds and pouring a ton of salt on them. But the thought of seeing her again .. he hadn't been able to resist.

It had been a mistake. He chose to be alone for a reason and tonight painfully reminded him of that – it was better if he was alone, that way he couldn't hurt people like that, like he did just a few minutes ago. He should have ignored the challenge, should have kept his distance.

What was done, was done though.

No, if he was honest, that wasn't the real reason. He was weak, that was the problem. He was too weak to stay with the people he loved, because eventually they would die and he would be left alone anyway – but it would hurt so much more, right?

Yes, yes, it would … would it? Because if he was wrong, then his seclusion was for nothing and then .. then what? He didn't even know anymore. Why did he do things, why did he do them the way he did? What was it all for? When he abandoned his friends, his love, he also left behind his motivation – and still, he kept going, because he didn't have a choice.

He clipped his wings and plunged down, towards the ground, his hysterical laugh drowning in the howling of the wind.


End file.
